


What It Takes to Resurrect Someone

by teaandanoraks



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesiac Mollymauk Tealeaf, Gen, Male Pronouns for Mollymauk Tealeaf, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Resurrection, do i know if molly's coming back? no but he is here!, gross description of said resurrection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandanoraks/pseuds/teaandanoraks
Summary: Many rumours were spread about the garden. Some claimed it was a recently-made portal to the Feywild and that a dryad protected the grove with its life. Some claimed it was a shrine to The Wildmother some overzealous acolytes had made in the middle of the night. Others theorized that it was the prison of a powerful being, and the tree was the only thing keeping it from rising again to wreak havoc on civilization. No matter the truth, travellers avoided the garden as much as they could and took great pains to avoid making camp in it. So the grove, with all its bountiful shade and picturesque flowers sat untouched.Until today.(aka a confused purple tiefling is resurrected and tries his best to make his way in the world [with some help])
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf & Original Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. Two Acquaintances Give Each Other Names

There was a particular patch of land, just off the Crispvale Roadway that was spoken of in hushed whispers by the travellers of the road. Five months ago, it had been as inconspicuous as the rest of the surrounding plains until out of nowhere, it transformed into a beautiful grove of flowers centred around a grand tree, high boughs laden with jade-coloured leaves.

Many rumours were spread about this place. Some claimed it was a recently-made portal to the Feywild and that a dryad protected the grove with its life. Some claimed it was a shrine to The Wildmother some overzealous acolytes had made in the middle of the night. Others theorized that it was the prison of a powerful being, and the tree was the only thing keeping it from rising again to wreak havoc on civilization. No matter the truth, travellers avoided the garden as much as they could and took great pains to avoid making camp in it. So the grove, with all its bountiful shade and picturesque flowers sat untouched.

Until today.

A lone figure trekked up the road, cloaked with a bow slung over one shoulder. They reached the point where travellers usually glanced at the garden and tightened their cloaks around their necks, hurrying by. However, this person approached the front of the garden, feet planted in the grass as they surveyed it.

After a momentary pause, they picked their way through the plants, trying their best to avoid stepping on any of them and cursing quietly when they inevitably did. They stopped at the base of the tree, pushing back the hood of their cloak. The strange traveller was a human woman with a determined set to her jaw, silvery eyes scanning the tree’s roots for something. A strange, irregular notch in the bark caught her eye. Carefully kneeling, she traced the crescent moon in the bark with their hand, smiling to herself.

“Bingo,” she murmured, pulling out the pendant around her neck that matched the symbol on the tree—the symbol of her goddess, the Moonweaver. Shrugging off her bow and quiver, she produced a small dagger from her waist and went to work.

The woman spent the better part of an hour carefully transplanting the surrounding plants, creating a large rectangular plot of topsoil. Sitting back on her heels, she rolled up her sleeves and dug into the earth with her dagger. She toiled away under the shade of the tree until the sun had begun to set, and the hole was deep enough that it hid her from the road.

The woman stopped digging as a skull became visible in the dirt. She’d already encountered the rest of the body—ribcage, spine, femurs, the smaller bones of the skeleton, but up until this point she had assumed the skeleton had been a human, like her. The skull, with prominent, ram-like horns proved her wrong.

“A tiefling?” She said curiously, turning the skull over in her hands, running her fingers delicately over the grooves in the horns. “Never seen one of those before.”

The human glanced back up at the mouth of the hole, setting down the skull and stepping to the side of the skeleton. She grabbed her cloak and rucksack from where she’d left them after beginning to dig the hole. She draped the dark cloak over the skeleton, leaving its skull and right arm exposed. Rummaging through the pack, she pulled out a diamond, a spool of white yarn and a pendant matching her own. She held the necklace in her hand, considering the symbol.

“You asked this favour of me,” she said to the pendant. “I don’t know _why_ you want him back so badly, but I’ll do it.”

_This ritual bears with it certain prices, Diana,_ chided the soft voice she heard in her dreams, the one she knew to be the Moonweaver. _You are under no obligation to bring him back but—he is needed._

Diana put the pendant around the neck of the skeleton and began tying the yarn to her wrist, a harder feat than she imagined it to be, gritting her teeth with effort.

_If you bring him back, your lives will be bound to one another._

“And if I don’t do it, someone else is bound to,” Diana muttered, unravelling a few lengths of yarn before cutting it from the spool and tying the other end of the length to the exposed wrist of the skeleton.

She glanced back up at the mouth of the hole, noting that it was dusk. “Appropriate,” she approved, holding up the diamond so it gleamed in the twilight.

Looking back at the skeleton, she took the hand with yarn around its wrist in her own tied hand and closed her eyes.

“ _Bring back his soul,_ ” she said in Celestial, the words hanging in the air like a song. “ _He’s needed back here._ ” She felt the Moonweaver’s presence as the spell began to take hold.

It was for the best that this ritual was performed in a hole, hidden by a tree. All that could be seen from the road was the diamond, the light of the recently-risen moons focused solely on the glowing gem, but within the hole, a different scenario was unfolding. As Diana repeated the phrases with increasing intensity, the skeleton was slowly growing back its flesh, muscle and veins twining over the bones in a grotesque reverse-pantomime of decay. The diamond grew brighter until it looked to be made of light, shining out over the deserted fields. The light shattered into thousands of tiny shards, dancing over the corpse and dissolving into freshly-formed lavender-coloured skin.

Diana, whose eyes remained shut, faltered as she felt the limp hand she’d been holding suddenly shudder violently. Against her better judgement, she kept her eyes shut as the corpse jerkily sat up. The cloak slid down and gathered at the base of its chest, the final shards of the diamonds coalescing into inked tattoos that spread over its face and down its upper body.

As Diana stopped her chant, she felt the yarn around her wrist melt away, a strange, cold feeling snaking its way up her arm and to her heart. She shivered and felt the corpse do the same.

It worked, she thought in wonder, opening her eyes slowly.

She was indeed staring at a tiefling. Purple-skinned with curly, dark hair cascading out behind the two horns she’d been admiring minutes earlier. Diana barely even minded the strange colouration of the tiefling’s skin--she was too busy admiring the featherlike tattoo weaving from their cheek down their neck and to their chest. They were covered in tattoos, the most prominent a beautiful, flower-covered snake weaving its way down the arm and to the hand she was holding. Diana couldn’t help but notice a prominent scar above their sternum. It was long, but thin- _like he’d been run through with something,_ Diana noted, wondering if that’s how he had died.

She didn’t have any more time to dwell on the scar, as the tiefling rolled their neck and opened their eyes: luminous red, pupil-less eyes. The two stared at each other for what seemed like an era, Diana transfixed by red-- _bright fucking red!-_ -eyes, the tiefling, absolutely confused out of his mind, trying to recognize whoever was sitting in front of him--whoever _he_ was, _anything_.

Diana slowly let go of his hand, eyes still locked with his. The tiefling let his hand drop, frowning as he tried his best to recognize her.

“Hello,” Diana said in Common, doing her best to appear as unthreatening as possible.

He shifted back away from her, hitting the wall of the hole, the sensation of the loamy dirt snapping his attention away from Diana as he took in his surroundings. He tensed, feeling as though the walls of the dirt hole--no, the grave-were closing in on him. His breath quickened as he stood. _Get out get out get out--_

Diana watched as the tiefling stood, shirking any sense of decorum as the cloak fell and he began attempting to claw his way out of the hole, clearly panicking. Diana swung herself out of the hole, running to where he was grabbing fistfuls of dirt and fruitlessly sliding down the hole’s wall.

“Here,” she stuck out a hand.

He grabbed on and pulled, nearly sending Diana in with him, but after a brief struggle as she found her footing, the tiefling scrambled out. He immediately grabbed the tree to catch his breath, purple skin gleaming in the moonlight.

_Oh my_ gods _, he’s naked,_ Diana panicked, having never seen anyone completely naked before. Trying her best to not look at him, she whipped around, searching the floor of the hole to find that fucking cloak. She retrieved the cloak and made her way back over to the tiefling, who was still bent over the tree.

“Here,” Diana draped the cloak over his shoulders, noting the faint smell of earth lingering to him. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

He straightened and pulled the cloak around him, obscuring his body. He nodded as a silent gesture of thanks.

“I-uh, I’m Diana Schriver,” Diana extended a hand. “I don’t know if you know your name, but it’s okay if you don’t.”

The tiefling took her hand, shaking it, and wishing he could introduce himself, but there was no memory of a name anywhere. He looked at her, trying to find some sign within her that maybe she knew who he was.

“I don’t know your name either,” she confessed. “Our goddess, the Moonweaver?” She pointed to the symbol around his neck-and hers. “She asked me to resurrect you.”

The tiefling looked over at the hole the two of them had crawled out of. Resurrected. The Moonweaver. Why did that feel like such a rush of deja vu? Something was coming to him. Something familiar, like a name?

Diana heard him mumble something under his breath. Something ‘tea’? “Tea?” She asked, taking a step towards him. “Is your name ‘Tea’?”

He turned back to her. Tea. The name felt like scratching an itch deep beneath his skin. It was close. Not quite, but close. He nodded, nothing better presenting itself in his mind.

“Tea,” Diana scrutinized the strange tiefling in front of her, wild-haired, purple, and wearing nothing but her cloak that ended around his knees. “I suppose that suits you.”

The newly-christened Tea looked at Diana, trying to form the syllables on his tongue, but everything felt strange, like speaking a language you’ve only ever seen written down. “D-di-” he broke off in frustration.

“If Diana’s too hard right now, you could use--” Diana wracked her brain for any short names she’d ever used. “--use Kit.”

“Kit,” Tea said, and the name felt right in his mouth. He smiled at Diana.

Diana smiled back at him. She hadn’t had anyone call her by that since her childhood, but it felt right coming from him.

“So, Tea,” she hefted her bow and quiver over her shoulder, gathering up the belongings she had scattered about during the ritual. “Shall we make camp?”

Tea looked over the remnants of what he assumed to be his grave: the tree as his headstone, the flowers his plot. He doubted there was much here for him. He looked back at Diana waiting at the foot of the grave, her eyebrows quirked up in a question.

“Okay.” Tea followed her out of the grove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first critical role work on here! Actually, my first fic on here period! I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter! Just for the sake of brevity, this picks up about six months after Molly died, just around when the Nein enter the happy fun ball in Nicodranas. 
> 
> Special thanks to plaid_turnabout for being my beta reader despite having little critrole knowledge. 💙 
> 
> Stay tuned for the next update!


	2. Diana Shows Off Her Bag of Tricks While Tea Steals A Dead Man’s Sword

“Appropriate you should be resurrected yesterday,” Diana quipped as she doused last night’s fire with her canteen.

Tea, who’d been twirling one of her daggers around in his hand with surprising dexterity-where had he learned how to do that?-looked up at her quizzically.

“Yesterday was a holiday called the Renewal Festival,” Diana explained. “It’s when spring starts, y’know, rebirth and all that.”

_Fitting,_ Tea thought bitterly, plunging the dagger into the ground near where he sat.

Diana watched him as she sifted through her bag for breakfast. Tea had been quiet all night, not saying anything beyond a ‘thanks’ to her when she had given him her overtunic as another layer to wear so he wouldn’t be cold in the night (and because she felt awkward around someone wearing nothing but a cloak). It concerned her, him not talking, but she had no idea if it was in his nature to be quiet, or just a side effect of being brought back from the dead, so she didn’t press him on it.

“So,” she handed him a strip of flatbread and a handful of dried fruits. “It’s about two days to Hupperdook, or three day’s trek out to Grimgolir…” Diana trailed off, recalling the heavy presence of Crownsguard in Hupperdook when she’d left. It wasn’t hard for her to pass as someone who worshipped one of the Empire-approved deities, but it might be harder to convince the Crownsguard that this tiefling wearing nothing but an amulet of the Moonweaver and a too-short tunic worshipped the Dawnfather or whoever. “...I think it would be best for us to head to Grimgolir.”

Tea nodded noncommittally, not knowing what either of those two places were, but it was clear to him by the facial expressions Diana made that Grimgolir was the better option.

After their quick breakfast, the duo packed what little they had and headed eastward to Grimgolir. The following day was uneventful, spent by Diana trying to identify various tracks in the dirt path-“ _That is clearly a wolf paw print, Tea. I have no idea what you’re talking about!_ ”-and after camping for the first night, teaching Tea how to throw the dagger she’d given him. He picked up the finesse of throwing it very quickly, surprising both of them as he hit a tree just off the path on his first go.

“You’re a natural,” Diana said, handing him the dagger back after retrieving it. “Maybe you were a dart thrower?”

Tea stared at the dagger in his hand. The dagger, as easily as throwing it came to him, didn’t feel like his choice of weapon. “Maybe.”

Diana shrugged, returning to trying to identify the hoofprints they were following. “What do you think, Tea? Donkey or horse?”

Tea hmmed, looking at the scenery around them. The distant mountain range-the Dunrock Mountains, Diana had told him-were looming closer. The plains stretched out around them, the occasional pine tree the only decoration to the land. But off to the southwest, a strange plume of smoke was trailing into the otherwise clear sky.

“Kit,” Tea grabbed her sleeve, pointing to the smoke.

Diana followed his gaze, narrowing her eyes. “That’s too big to be a campfire. Too dark,” she retrieved an arrow from her quiver and nocked it. “We move carefully.”

With careful silence, the couple approached the dark plume, the source obscured by an outcropping of sagebrush.

“Okay,” Diana relaxed her grip on the bow as she pulled Tea down behind the sagebrush with her. “I’m just going to go scout out the smoke, see if anyone there needs help, or healing or anything. You stay here, where you can’t be seen, okay?”

Tea put the hood of the cloak up, not liking the idea of Diana heading into an unknown situation like that. “Okay.”

“Don’t sound so nervous,” Diana tugged at the edge of the hood teasingly. “I’m stealthy; don’t worry.”

Tea watched her disappear through the brush and with a foreboding feeling in his stomach, considered the dagger in his hands.

Diana crept silently through the undergrowth, eyes ahead, keenly listening for any signs of the creatures that had created the fire. Reckless travellers, she figured, hoping it wasn’t anything more serious.

The smoke loomed larger now and as Diana reached the edge of the sagebrush, she realized it was coming from a completely ransacked camp.

“Oh, moons above,” she gasped, taking in the slashed tents and saddlebags spilled across the clearing.

Scanning the area for any signs of harmed individuals or the perpetrators of the ransacking and finding none, Diana stood and made her way into the camp. She counted three tents in total, so around six people with maybe four horses, but they’d been carrying nothing of note.

“Just fucking travellers,” Diana spat, kicking an overturned bowl. “And bandits still raided their camp.”

“All the better to attract good samaritans like yourself with,” sneered a voice from behind her.

Oh _fuck_. Diana whirled around, bow in hand to come face to face with a very large, very ugly human man. Correction: a group of four burly and leering humans, plus this ogre of a man.

“We were wondering how long we’d have to wait ‘till some poor sap came bumbling over to see what poor little ‘uns died here,” chuckled one of the bandits. “And now we get a pretty, little--”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as Diana raised her bow and shot her clean through her shoulder. The bandit squawked and fell back as Diana took off running in the other direction.

_If I circle them, I might be able to make it back to the sagebrush,_ Diana thought, mind racing. But even then, what next? She could turn Tea and herself invisible, maybe? Cast Sleep on the bandits and run?

She was shaken out of her planning as a crossbow bolt grazed her arm. “Shit!” she cast a glance back at the bandits, who had given chase and looked hungry for a fight.

Diana pulled out her amulet. “ _Protect me,_ ” she commanded in Celestial, feeling the familiar rush of wings as a large owl materialized behind her and swooped after the closest bandit. She jumped through the slashes of one tent, shooting an arrow back behind her blindly. A pained yell told her the shot had landed as she banked hard right, running back through the group of bandits. The ghostly owl she’d summoned clawed at them, screeching angrily as the bandits attacked Diana back.

“Not so fast,” snarled the leader of the group as Diana dove past him. He brought down his longsword, hitting her squarely in the back.

Pain flooded Diana’s senses, cursing as she felt her defensive spell dissipate. She stumbled forward and barely avoided falling over, spinning back to face the bandits.

“If you want a fight that badly,” Diana summoned a bolt of golden flame in her hand. “Then you’ll get one.”

Before Diana could release the bolt, one of the bandits dropped to the ground suddenly, a dagger sticking out of the back of his head.

“What the fuck?” the leader turned to look at Diana. “Did you--?”

Diana’s eyes flitted to the entrance of one of the tents, where from out of the shadows slid a cloaked figure. A hand holding a sword pushed back the hood of the cloak, and there was Tea, a fire burning behind his eyes and a dull shortsword in his hand.

“No,” he growled, raising the sword and pointing to the fallen bandit. The bandits and Diana watched as the corpse lurched unnaturally upwards as if on puppet strings, and planted its sword into the foot of the bandit closest to it.

Chaos descended upon the bandits as they shrieked over the corpse of their comrade, the one with a sword embedded in her foot howling. The two uninjured bandits pulled their weapons out, glaring at Tea ferociously and the leader focused back on Diana.

“Fancy tricks’ll only get you so far,” he brought down the longsword over his head, the arc headed straight for Diana.

Diana blocked the blow with her bow’s riser, and with a quick rowing motion, disarmed the leader and slashed him across his face.

The funny thing about Diana’s particular bow was that it wasn’t made of willow wood like most longbows were. She had received it as a gift from a blacksmith after curing his family of the pox. It was made of a strong silvery metal, and both limbs were as sharp as a sword. Diana loved the versatility of it: both a ranged weapon and a unique melee weapon.

The leader stumbled back, clutching his bloodied face.

“Good thing I have lots of tricks then,” Diana got into a defensive stance, waiting for his next attack.

Tea watched the two bandits circling him, holding out his sword. One of them was armed with a crossbow, not much good up close, Tea figured, but the other held a blood-covered axe, and kept feinting at him, egging him on. The two bandits made eye contact with one another over Tea’s head, and the one with the crossbow fired a bolt just as the other surged forward. Tea ducked, feeling the bolt woosh over his horns and parried the axe blow. His eyes landed on Diana’s dagger, still embedded in the dead bandit’s head: a lucky shot. He sprung towards the dagger, wrenching it out of the skull and turned back towards the bandits. The bandit with the axe ran at him and swung, Tea blocking the blow by crossing his weapons over his head. He shrugged the axe off with the sword’s blade and stabbed him with the dagger.

“You’re a tough mother, aren’t ya,” the bandit growled, throwing themselves back at Tea.

Diana’s wound was throbbing, the exhaustion of parrying each harsh blow doing no favours to the shoulder wounds she’d sustained from the crossbow bolt. The leader was showing no signs of tiring, and it was all Diana could do to keep parrying his attacks.

_I have to end this,_ Diana thought, sparing a look at Tea, who had just speared one of the bandits and was advancing on the other one.

Diana pushed the leader’s attack back and lunged at him, screaming as she cast the most powerful, harmful spell she could think of. The bandit leader stumbled back, skin sloughing off and the insides blackening with the necrotic power of Diana’s spell.

Diana ran past him, attempting to dodge his last-ditch attempt to hit her as the sword tore through her leather gauntlet, skinning part of her forearm.

Tea looked up from the second bandit he’d killed to see Diana, bleeding and sprinting to him, hand outstretched. “Grab hold!” she yelled.

He dropped his sword, reached for her and watched as a strange, silvery iridescence radiated from Diana’s necklace and encompassed them both as their fingers connected.

Diana and Tea vanished from the battlefield before the incensed leader of the bandit’s eyes.

“Stupid magic users,” he growled, wiping blood from his face. “Not good for shit, and they ruined my fucking crew.”

He looked down at the lone, snivelling member of his team, the poor sod who’d gotten stabbed through her foot.

“How the fuck did that-that _thing_ control him like that?” she whimpered. “I never saw anyone do that before.”

“Tieflings,” the leader helped her to her feet. “Who fucking knows.”

Less than fifteen feet away, Diana and Tea watched the two remaining bandits limp away, invisible.

“Kit--” Tea began.

Diana shushed him. “They can still hear us, even if they can’t see us.”

It was unnerving hearing Diana even though he couldn’t see her. Tea knew she was there; they hadn’t let go of one another’s hands even after the spell had been cast, but he liked being able to see who he was talking to.

“We’ll wait until they crest that hill, then we can start off on the path again,” Diana said. “I don’t want to make camp here.”

Tea didn’t blame her. If it wasn’t a suitable place beforehand, it was now. Three corpses of the bandits plus the poor travellers he had seen in the tents as he snuck through the campsite earlier. But--there were also clothes. He didn’t _like_ the idea of stealing a dead man’s shirt or pants but the idea of not forcing Diana to give him her belongings was more appealing.

“Hold on,” Tea squeezed Diana’s hand before letting it go and moving towards where he’d seen the spare clothing.

“Tea?” Diana felt the squeeze before he slipped from her grasp. “Tea, where are you going?”

The tent flap across from where Diana stood fluttered as Tea entered, grabbing the shirt and pants from the pack on the ground.

Diana looked back at the retreating backs of the bandits, unsure whether to blindly follow where Tea went or keep an eye on the bandits, and groaned, making several rude gestures at the general vicinity.

Tea, having finished redressing, exited the tent, carrying Diana’s tunic and cloak. “Kit?”

Diana’s head snapped towards his voice. “I’m over here!”

Tea blindly felt over in the direction of Diana’s voice, stopping when his hand hit something hard.

“Hey,” He felt Diana’s hand take his. “Where’d you go?”

Tea handed her back her tunic and cloak, and Diana took them, reflexively taking a step back. “Please tell me you aren’t naked right now.”

Tea felt the back of his neck grow hot. “No!”

“You found clothing? Like, nice clothing?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence settled over the two of them, Diana purposefully turning away from Tea to watch the bandits vanish over a swell in the plains. She waited for maybe five minutes after they left before turning back to where she guessed Tea was. “I can make us visible again?”

“Okay.”

Diana let the illusion drop and Tea immediately noticed the deep red stains on her underclothes, moving to her in concern. “Kit!”

“What?” she looked down at the bloodstains on her chemise, the leather armour she’d been wearing torn to ribbons. “Guess I have to buy new armour now. Are you hurt?” Diana examined him. The clothes he had found were commoner’s, a simple shirt and breeches, but by the angles the clothes were hanging off his wiry frame with, had been tailored for someone much larger than him.

She could see smaller lacerations showing through the neckline of the shirt. “Here,” she reached out to heal him, but he stepped back out of her range, giving her a stern look.

“I’m _going_ to heal myself, but I’m healing _you_ first,” she stepped forward to match his step and touched his chest.

Immediately, a warm feeling spread out from her fingertip through his body, and all the pain from his wounds melted away. He looked at her in amazement as she flicked some dirt off her shoulder, the same warm glow emanating from her hand.

Diana arched an eyebrow. “Better?”

“Better.”

Diana looked down at the cloak Tea had given back to her. _The cloak._ She looked back at Tea, eyes sparkling. “The cloak! _That’s_ how you were able to sneak up so well, and they saw me!”

Tea frowned. “How?”

“It’s a Cloak of Elvenkind,” she held up the cloak to the dusk light, which Tea realized was not black as he originally thought, but shifted in the light to match the surroundings. “It’s supposed to camouflage you, so you can hide more easily.”

_That’s an impressive trick,_ Tea thought.

Diana bent over, picking up the sword he’d dropped earlier. “Well. Let’s find somewhere to make camp and we’ll keep heading to Grimgolir, okay?”

Tea took the sword from her, swinging it in a circle. “Okay.”

Diana watched the steady, practiced cut that the sword made in the air and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “What you did today was incredible.”

Tea recalled watching a giant, ghostly owl appear out of Diana and her knocking back a giant man with one blast of magic. His actions paled in comparison to her spellwork, but the compliment felt good all the same.

He put his hand on top of hers. “You too.”

Smiling, Diana took his hand, pulling him out of the camp and into the surrounding twilight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter!! Life's been a little chaotic as of lates, so I haven't had the energy to do much writing, but here it is!! For reference, Diana casts a couple of spells during battle; Spirit Guardians, Inflict Wounds at a stupid high level, Invisibility and Cure Wounds. Tea uses the Blood Curse of the Fallen Puppet during the fight as well, which Talesin didn't give Molly in the actual campaign, but I think it's a super cool ability, soooo I'm bending the script a little.
> 
> As always, a big old thank you to plaid_turnabout for being an awesome beta reader 💙💙
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr!! My user's howdoyoutodothis


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